My Poem ‘I am 1 a.m.’

I am like a cool breeze on a hot day;
I am like a flash of lightning
and the sound of thunder in a wild storm;
I am like a light that guides the way;
I am like a little boy running free
through a head-tall field of corn.

I am like a bird flying free,
and singing loud and listening always
for familiar close and distant calls;
I am like a piece of art that is being remade;
I am like the billions of water-drops that make a waterfall;
I am like the light of the stars,
and the hope that you find after searching and reaching
the centre of a maze.

I am like the leaves of a tree;
I am like the clouds of the sky;
I am the one and only me;
I am the one who feels everything
with all my heart, and who is not afraid to cry.

I am either one way, or another;
I do not often walk the line;
I am a believer that every moment
is full of energy and inspiration;
I am a lover who gives all of myself,
all of the time;
I am the space-ship
that travels to many different and distant space-stations;
I am the echo;
I am the footprint;
I am like the perfect white flakes of snow.

I am like the expression of art
that everyone creates when they are a child
in the form of a hand-print in wet paint.
I am the thoughts that fill the silence;
I am the artist that paints the infinite picture;
I am the question mark at the end of a sentence;
I am always living and hoping for what awaits in the future;
I am a man filled with fascination;
I am the one who will never give up,
and who will keep trying over and over, time and again;
I am surrounded by perfection;
I am who I always am, no matter what day it is, or what time-
no matter if it is a Saturday afternoon,
or a Thursday morning at 1 a.m.

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My Poem ‘The Road Runner’

Opening and closing our eyes.
Inhaling and exhaling.
Watching and feeling our chest rise and fall.
Stretching and reaching for daylight.
Looking at the clock and blinking,
and accidentally losing track of the time.
Lying in bed, turning and stepping out,
and touching the floor of our bedroom with our feet.
Remembering that there is this thing called “gravity”
that keeps us all in-line and walking and standing fine.
Thinking and wondering what the new day has in store.
Doing what you do, as you paddle out to the sea
that is the outside world and leave the bed
that is your island of tranquility shore.

Feeling your mind racing.
Slowly building from a crawl to a run.
Feeling your senses interlacing.
Leaving your house at the velocity of the speed of sound,
like a bullet from a gun.
Chasing a dream.
Hoping for evidence of the unseen.
Seizing every moment of every second,
like riding the energy of a bolt of lightning.
Meaning every word that you say and never holding back
is something that we can’t all do sometimes-
even the sun in the sky is sometimes obscured by cloud,
which stops its rays from shining.

Being where you need to be.
Being with who you need and are meant to be with.
Seeing the things you need to see.
Seeing everything for what it is: a gift.
Remixing the old with the new in your own mind,
and in your daily life.
Fixing the broken as best that you can.
Masking you occasional reactions
with the expressions that people know you by.
Amassing connections that all fit together
to realise the picture of your well-meant and best-laid plans.

Showing yourself for who you are.
Laughing and joking at the unexpected.
Relaxing and shining effortlessly like a star.
Leading, as well as being led.
Standing exposed.
Running for cover.
Making the most of what was chose.
Enjoying every thing about being the road runner.

My Poem ‘Hero’

You saved me as soon as I met you,
you caught me as I fell,
you raised me up from the gloom,
you made me come out of my shell.

A hero doesn’t always need a suit,
a hero doesn’t always need a name,
a hero can give you something to listen to
when you have been spending a lot of you time
having the rest of the world on mute,
a hero can be someone who saves you every day
again and again.

You saw me instantly for who I was,
you accepted me for all my flaws,
you embraced everything I gave
and gave back to me the most incredible love,
you created doors where there were only walls.

A hero is always there when they are needed,
a hero is constantly on a journey,
a hero can be any age, in any walk of life-
a hero can be a teacher, policeman or a policewoman,
a carer, an artist, a writer, a friend-
and the most unique, but humble, unbelievable,
and special person you have ever met,
because they can always lift you up and show you
things you can’t see.

You were like a burst of beautiful light from the sky,
you carried me far and away like a kite on the wind,
you would give you last dollar to anyone in need,
because you are so generous, and because you are kind-
you cared for me when one person to hold me
and never let me go was all that I wanted.

A hero has super-powers,
but sometimes not those that you would expect,
and to see them for how incredible and super they are
you have to see them for what they are.
A hero knows you and would never forget you.
A hero would never take you for granted
and would always see you and describe you as a star.
A hero is a hero no matter where they are-
sometimes they don’t even realize that they are a hero,
because they are who they are, and they just do what they do.

You make me smile every day.
You have saved me countless times since we met,
in more ways than you will ever know.
You fill me with hope, and when I am with you I am unafraid.
You are untouchable, you are bullet-proof.
You are a dream come true, you are my hero.

My Poem ‘A Water-drop in the Cosmic Sea’

Like the moment when you first open a book
and you read the dedication on the first few pages;
like the moment when the clouds above you in the sky at night
clear and reveal the distant and beautiful stars;
like the first thing you see and feel
when you first meet someone
who you have been waiting to meet for ages;
like the experience and revelation that you live through
in a split-second when you look at someone
and right-away you feel as if you know them
and have seen yours and their future coming in clearly-
like a photograph from the surface of Mars;
like a water-drop in a cosmic sea
we are always creating ripples in the world
and in each other’s lives,
and I am constantly being touched by the effect of people
who live beyond the horizon, who do amazing things every day
that always get back to me.

Thank goodness for books.
Thank goodness for connectivity.
Thank goodness for shared memories and experiences
of first touches and first looks.
Thank goodness for divine poetry.
Thank goodness for the heroes we hear about
but will never know personally.
Thank goodness for stories told literally, orally, visually,
with heart, soul, and love,
that are constantly being sent out for other to find
like a message in a bottle that washes ashore
after being carried for miles across the sea.
Thank goodness for finding something new to talk about
everywhere we go.
Thank goodness for awesome and deep music that takes us away.
Thank goodness for everyone who comes our way.

Every day I drop my stone into the cosmic water,
I dream, and I make a wish;
every day I cast my line out far and wide
like I am trying to catch a fish;
every day I send out a signal and I listen for a reply
to come in via my psychic satellite dish.

Writing, to me, is like breathing.
Reading, to me, is like inhaling.
Experiencing, to me, is like dreaming.
Seeing, to me, is believing.
Talking, to me, is like walking.
Proposing, to me, is the end of all of your searching,
when you know you have found the one person in the entire world
who you believe was born beautiful and who is like a miracle
in every way, and who will never need perfecting.

Pull over to the side of the road once in a while,
look up at the sky, and dare to dream
and wish upon the star in the sky burning brightly
for your entire life that is the sun,
enjoy the good things that happen in life,
and endure the bad, and if possible find every
and any moment to have fun.
Go to a vast lake, stand on the coast of a deep ocean-
look out and don’t be afraid to see who and what you want to see,
look up to the infinite, unexplainable, and beautiful,
and feel like you are an important piece of an epic puzzle
that connects you to everything and links everything to you,
and know that you yourself are both a deep and sparkling ocean,
as well as a magical and influential water-drop in a cosmic sea.

My Poem ‘In reply’

“So what are you thinking and feeling right now
whilst you’re out there amongst Nature?”

I feel free! I feel open! I feel hopeful! I feel me!
I feel like I could touch the sky with my finger
just like I am touching the muddy ground with my booted feet.
I feel warm! I feel energized!
I feel home! I feel blessed
as the beautiful and golden sunlight touches my eyes!

As I walk through the forest though it is cooler
because the sun is radiating and being absorbed by the surrounding trees.
I can hear birds and the rustling of unseen animals all around me,
but they are so high and fast they are the dwellers
of this fertile land and sky that I cannot see.

Coming back here brings back so many memories!
Coming back here reminds me of so many happy times,
and it is like they are still there to be remembered
and felt by the touch of the cool but magical breeze.

Walking the fields, walking over the crisp brown leaves
and sumptuous green grass,
I have this sensation of feeling like an animal feels,
I have this urge to walk and run and forge my own path.

Everything is bright, everything looks new.
Everything I see is bathed in light,
and even that which is in the shadow cast by something else
retains it’s beautiful natural colour and hue.

The country lanes I walk have no natural footpath,
so I must walk on the road.
Cars and 4×4’s race past me and create a splash
as they drive through the puddles I too pass through-
out here there is no such thing as a Highway Code.

Out here where I walk there are little oasis’s
of rarely seen and hardly touched patches of Earth
that resemble my kind of heaven.
Out here you can hear nothing but your own heart beating in your chest,
sweet birdsong in the trees, and the faint sound of an airplane
flying high above in the sky that is skirting and almost touching
the atmosphere and making dreams a reality
and the passengers on it feel as if they are light as a feather.

My Poem ‘The Sun In My Eyes’

The sun in my eyes, the touch of a breeze-
like the breath from someone’s lungs-
caressing my neck,
the feeling of the water from the fountain I am sitting by
splashing against my back,
the joy that I feel almost makes me want to cry,
everyone’s attention feels like it is focused on
tapping into a powerful energy,
my mind wanders, my thoughts feel like an ocean,
I look up at the beautiful blue sky
and I am in need of nothing else
but what this moment can offer me:
the freedom to be who I want to be,
the time to spend listening to the song of humanity,
the escape to have everything a person could ever need
before me.

As I look out and around at the people standing
and sitting beside me around the fountain,
everyone begins to glow, everyone starts to radiate,
everyone begins to lose their control,
everyone starts to talk to each other in every language,
and the golden air around them begins to shimmer
and vibrate.

I think about the world.
I think about my life.
I think about who I am,
I think about who I want to be with,
I think about stars being born
every second in someone’s eyes,
I think about being made new by the sun’s light.

The truth is there for me to touch,
the reason is there for me to hold,
life feels unending, hopeful, beautiful, and lush.
I understand the vast connections and messages shared,
I see the secrets that can never be told.

I could sit here all day in the afternoon sun,
I could watch all evening people coming and going,
arriving, leaving, returning, becoming,
delighting, igniting,
I could observe all night in the star-light
everybody acting, imagining, and dreaming as-one.

At sunset I watch the clouds burn,
at night I beseech to the heavens for love
and togetherness to return,
at dawn I watch fixated and fascinated watching the sunrise,
at midday I return to my favourite spot by the fountain,
taking it all in, sitting in full fusion with nature’s glow,
with the sun in my eyes.

My Poem ‘Coffee and Clouds’

On an early-morning flight-
just as the sun rises in the sky
and brings alive the clouds
like a wave of fire frozen in time,
like a magical world being expressed
by someone’s incredible and inspired imagination-
a man looks out his window
and simply cannot believe what he is seeing.
He cannot think, he cannot move,
he just knows that he is here for a reason.
He is sitting in his chair on a plane flying 500mph,
in the atmosphere of a planet spinning 1000mph,
with a heart in his chest beating like an unrested drum.
The man isn’t going far,
but to him every flight is like a trip to the moon.
Even as he watches the electric blue
and serene open air above the clouds,
the man swears for a moment
that he sees shooting-stars descend and streak
from above to below in short sucession-
not a trick of the light,
or momentary bursts from the sun-
actual asteroids and meteors from another world
choosing now to reign down from the heavens,
to fall into view and end their billion-year journey
right in front of him.

As the man takes a sip of hot coffee
he wonders for a second how the cup came into his hand,
who handed it to him, how unearthly and incredible the coffee tastes,
if he looked away from the window,
because he doesn’t remember when or for how long.
As the hot coffee rests in his mouth for a second
and then rushes down his throat,
the view outside the window, outside the plane,
intensifies within the blink of an eye,
and the man feels like the plane and his fellow passengers
are suddenly flying on the airplanes wings-
fixed in position, but able to be swept on their journey
by the breeze on their face and through their hair,
and by the feeling of unbelievable freedom.
It isn’t until the plane hits a slight patch of turbulence
that the man regains his faculties and his focus
and remembers where he is.

The air is different up here.
Everything you feel, think, and experience,
while free of gravity, goes straight to your head,
in ways only an astronaut could reciprocate,
or someone who finds love and happiness
for the first time in their life.

The man sleeps.
While still believing he is still awake,
while believing that he has been awake for the entire flight,
forgetting the brief conversation that he had with a passenger
who mistook him for a celebrity
while making their way back from the bathroom.
The man wakes.
The man feels more refreshed than he has done in years.
The man feels like he has been looking out the window
for what seemed like seconds,
before the announcement rang-out
and the “fasten your seat-belts” sign became illuminated
indicating that he and the plane were descending to there destination.

What does it all mean? The man asked himself,
as they passed though the clouds.
Everything means something, he repeated to himself,
from the stirred coffee in your cup that swirls
and resembles the spiral of a galaxy,
to the beautiful shapes and colours that you discover
while you’re among the clouds.

My Poem ‘Snowman’s Paradise’

Snowflakes swirl, fly, and dance, in the air,
as they slowly descend to the already white-covered floor-
billions of intricate and perfect frozen tears
dusting and blanketing the world before me.
It is like standing in the middle of a snowglobe.
No one can see anything in front of them,
everyone just jeeps going as best, as fast,
and as caustiously, as they can-
not letting the weather keep them in one place,
not even this unrelenting snowfall.

Seeing familiar landmarks veiled below frozen fields
that makes everything look indistinguishable from everything else,
a new world reveals itself, a new light shines, a new beauty arises,
the sky becomes the Earth, the Earth becomes the sky;
the sun is obscurred from view, all is bright,
and suddenly every-day things that you may sometimes miss
start to catch your eye.

A red british postbox has never looked more amazing
and glowing than against a white back-drop;
roads and motorways have never seemed more ghostly,
nor more other-worldly, than when you drive down them
in the middle of a blizzard,
when you are relying on the lights of the vehicles
in front of you to save you from coming to a sudden,
immediate, and perhaps costly stop.

Walking on what you cannot see,
walking on something that you have to constantly reteach yourself
how to walk on with every step,
makes you think more about your surroundings,
forces you to not take anything for granted,
and to expect the unexpected-
it doesn’t take much to take a false step in the snow below
and seconds later to find yourself in a skid.

In this weather you need to wrap-up warm, keep on the move,
stay dry, make the most of every shelter and cover that you come across,
don’t rush to wherever you are going, give yourself time, stay inside-
the snow can seem like a disruption if you have got somewhere to go;
but you cannot not appreciate its beauty, its magic,
its gift of contemplation-
nothing else opens your eyes to the world more wide.

Looking at the world, staring at the white cloud-covered sky,
at the snow-carpeted ground, and at the bare branches of the trees,
while wearing the biggest and the warmest coat that I could find
to protect me from the cold and the ice-
I look at where I am standing,
I look at the landscape that nature is remaking,
and I smile to myself at the thought that, as things stand right now,
this must be the most perfect winter wonderland that I have ever seen,
and it would be the most sublime snowman’s paradise.

My Poem ‘Something in the air’

Sunlight and sound in the morning air
on a bright and beautiful brand new day-
a sight that I have not seen for a long time,
because for weeks every time I looked up at the sky
all that I could see were thick clouds of grey.

From the song of birds outside my window,
to the distant rumble of an airplane taking-off
beyond the horizon;
from the pale blue firmament above me
shimmering in the sun’s golden glow,
to the return to the world that I feel now
after feeling so removed-
I truly believe that, like the chorus of this new day,
like the remastering of the world
that appears to have happened while I was sleeping,
something amazing has just begun.

I feel like I could look up at this sky
all day and just stare.
I don’t know what it is about today of all days.
I guess there is just something in the air.

My Poem ‘Still’

At dawn, when the cloud patterns in the sky
are unlike any that you have ever seen,
when the trees against the sky look like stencils on a canvas-
monochrome, like the birds that nest within them-
as seen from a distance, like something out of a silent movie scene.

At daybreak, when sunlight first touches the rooftops of houses
and bounces off windows, when everything looks shiny and new-
like the first time that you ever opened your eyes,
looked up in curiosity, and asked why the sky is blue.

From the moment that we learn to talk
we are all asking important and fundamental questions;
it may not sound or seem so at the time,
but the questions that we begin to ask when we are a child
we still continue to ask as an adult-
though they may see some reinvention.

From the moment that we wake-up in the morning,
we crave the one thing that we need to open our mind
and complete the circuit that will set us in good-stride
for the horizons of the new day before us;
from the moment that we begin again to reconnect with the world,
we always go to the source that enlightens, entertains, and aligns us,
and to the relationships that we have grown to trust.

As soon as we first venture out into the world,
as soon as we take our first step out of the door
to wherever it is that we are going-
we can already sense something in the air,
we can already feel the changes within us and around us that are undergoing;
as soon as we first hear the voices
and the conversations that are taking place,
between friends and family on phones, silently at fingers touch,
or to people standing or sitting side-by-side-
we are equally intrigued by what everyone has to say;
however, sometimes, we can all feel like satellites
circling other satellites in outer-space.

Even though we all know nothing about everything,
we know what we need to know to keep our world turning,
to keep us going, and to bolster our will-
because, even though all worlds change, don’t stop,
and can seem chaotic and confusing up-close,
when seen high above- like a planet in space-
all things seem logical, peaceful,
all things seem still.